All My Life
by Starom
Summary: If the destiny was written at his birth, what made him think he could escape it? Darren's new life, Darren's POV. Feel free to R&R! Chapter 5 is up. Sorry for the HHUUUUUGGGEE delay!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 

"Stood before me was one of the people that came on in the intervals, one of those that sold stuff and wore those blue hoods. Then, it dropped its hood and mask and I saw…"

"What," Steve probed, eager looks of anticipation on his face. "What did it look like?"

"Well, it was looked like Frankenstein's monster, only more stitched up and it had great big, huge, green eyes that glowed. It was freaky. Its mouth was just like a giant gash and I think it had no teeth, but I was so scared that I just pegged it."

"God Darren," Steve teased, shoving me. "You're such a wuss."

I grinned weakly and gathered myself together, just glad to see that Steve had broken from his sulk. Since that night at the show, something, well, just didn't seem quite right about him. He seemed kinda, withdrawn, you know? He was still at school most of the time and he still played with me and Alan and the group, but he didn't quite seem the same. The others didn't quite seem to notice, but I did, Steve being my best friend in the whole world.

"What about you, Steve? What happened after the show?"

"Oh, uh, nothing really. I saw some friend of Mum's and went to go say hello."

I nodded, feeling oddly certain that wasn't what he actually did. We walked down the road together and after Steve got to his house I just carried on alone. It's not that my house was all that far from Steve's. On the contrary it was quite close, but I was walking really slowly, just taking up every little bit of scenery. I wasn't sure why I was doing it – it just felt like the right thing to do.

When I got home, Annie was sat in my room, playing with that little doll that I'd brought her for her last Birthday and Mum was downstairs, probably making tea or something. Dad wasn't home, so I guessed he was still at work. I shooed Annie from my room for a few minutes whilst a got changed. Sitting on my bed, just pulling my t-shirt over my head, I grinned at the pile of horror comics in the corner. It was quite some collection now. I had something of every type of horror story – I had Frankenstein comics, Mummy as in the Egyptian kind, not the Mother kind comics, Zombie comics and , best of all, Vampire comics. They were always my favourites. Something about the stories, maybe it was the blood-lust, the hunger, the sadness or the fear, just drew me to read them. I always felt kinda sorry for them, you know? As if they weren't really as bad as everyone makes them out.

There was a knock at the door and Annie came in, clearing me from my train of thought. I grinned at her, scooped her up and tickled her on the bed. She giggled, her arms flailing uselessly. I let her go after a few seconds and tried to tickle me back, but I picked her up and put her on the floor again, so she could return to playing with her doll.

"Darren, Annie, food's ready," Mum called from downstairs.

I grinned and grabbed Annie and, whilst she was still wriggling, carried her down the stairs, hearing nothing but her giddy laughter all the way down.

"Oh stop it Darren," Mum laughed. "You're going to make her all giddy just before dinner."

"OK, OK," I breathed. "I'll just go and wash my hands."

Quickly, I went into the small toilet room and gave my hands a good wash before dinner. I smelled … chips! Yeah! We'd not had chips in ages. With even more haste than before, I grabbed the towel to dry my hands with. As I pulled it free, the rail it was on came loose of the wall and clattered to the floor. The noise pierced my skull and I heard a voice that I shouldn't be hearing.

"Steve…OK Steve?"

"Is…he… dead?"

"Of course not…chest…"

An image of Steve, strewn across the floor burst violently in my head. There was an enormous spider perched on one side of the room and Annie quivering in the other. I was stood close to Steve, trying to rouse him from his sleep. The still, limpness of his body looked like only one thing to me – death. But, he seemed to be still breathing. What had happened? When did this happen? How could I remember it all?

"Steve…I'm going…help you…"

Suddenly, I heard Mum.

"Darren?"

Pictures of Steve faded from my mind. Instead, I found myself stood in the bathroom, clutching a towel, staring at the towel rack on the floor. Hurriedly, I re-connected it to the wall and scurried off into the dining room.

"Where've you been Darren, you're food is going cold."

I looked down at the plate and realized that I no longer felt particularly hungry. "Sorry Mum," I said quietly, almost whispered. I took my place and began to eat the food, cheering up a little bit, the image of Steve still burned into my mind. I don't ever remember being in a situation like that, yet the scenario seemed all too familiar. Had it happened and I just forgot? No, impossible – I've never seen such an enormous spider before.

But what a spider. It was beautiful. Its long legs, its coloured body and its graceful movement – they all seemed so familiar to me. _Madame Octa_. Huh? Where had that name come from? But it seemed right. The spider felt like it was called Madame Octa. It's like when you visit some long distant branch of family and don't know anyone's name because you haven't seen these people but when they tell you, it seems familiar, it seems right. I'm not saying I have a member of family who calls herself Madame Octa. The spider isn't a distant member of family either!

"Darren," a voice called, once more snapping me from my day-dream. It was Mum, again. "Come on, love, eat some of your food. You need all of your energy after all that football you play."

I grinned. She got that right. It was my dream to become a footballer. Me and Tommy – yeah that would be so cool. I could be the top striker and he would be the top keeper. He was pretty unstoppable, and I wasn't half bad up front. We were a pretty great combination.

I shovelled a few more chips and a bit of chicken into my mouth, feeling a little better. The image of Steve may still have been haunting me, but it was just a day-dream after all. Nothing particularly important, just a figment of my imagination.

Yet that small, ever-present voice in my head was screaming, insisting, knowing that it was nothing of the sort.

* * *

OK, so it's a bit presumptious, but I like the idea. Although this is nothing like the life the current Darren Shan lives, I'm sure, it gave me tonnes of ideas and stuff! Chapter 2 is in progress, should be up sometime soon... :)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

"Hey Steve, cross us the ball!"

I tore up the right side of the pitch, anticipating the cross. He was usually pretty accurate. I slowed and glanced behind me. He was just about to cross the ball. I moved a little further to the side, took possession of the ball, and began my run at the keeper. This one had been a pretty close game.

I fell one on one with the keeper, who was, in this case, Tommy. I pulled back my leg to take a swing at the ball and it connectedly cleanly, sending the ball flying perfectly into the top corner of the goal. Tommy dived, fingertips just connecting, but the ball still finding its home in the net. Just about to cheer and run off, I waited for Tommy to get up, so I could console him for a nearly good save.

But he didn't get up. Half in fear, I ran over to him, checking what had happened. He was lying flat on the ground, arms still outstretched, a blank look on his face. His mouth was hanging agape and his tongue was lolling lazily between his lips. However, the next thing my eyes settled on was the worst. The blood from a great wound to his skull.

I stared at him, frozen with fear. He couldn't get this badly injured; I mean this was pretty serious. The image of Steve's limp body flashed into my head again. The stillness of his face, the aura of death all around him, smothering and choking all of the life. Shaking my head, I returned to Tommy and the football pitch.

"Hey Steve, quick, we need to help Tommy."

"Shove off Darren; he's probably just messing about. Just go and give him a good kick and… God, that's serious. Go and get Mr Dalton."

Yeah, I thought. Mr Dalton would know what to do, as he always did. Mr Dalton was my favourite teacher by a mile. Whereas most teachers were always uptight and boring, he was cool and understanding. Plus he tried [not always succeeding, mind to make his lessons interesting. But where would he be now?

An hour or so later, me and Steve were sat in the back of an ambulance, Mrs Jones besides us and the school nurse next to her. Tommy was looking a little better now – they'd tidied away most of the blood – but he was still unconscious, totally dead to us all. I tried not to look at the body, focusing on some small writing on the wall. My eyesight wasn't spectacular, but I saw it well enough.

It read: "Could all in this ambulance take care not to disturb all of the equipment. Please remain seated at all times."

Just a normal safety notice, I supposed, getting a headache from the travelling. Glum, I took another look at Tommy, just to check for any improvement. Still, no signs of consciousness. The image of Steve began to burn again at the back of my eyes. My vision started to cloud over. I saw stood in a white room, presumably a hospital room.

"…all … negative…"

"…how many types…poison…?"

"…thousands…"

My head was throbbing painfully, each pulsation sending a brighter light into my mind. It grew more and more intense, blinding me, forcing my eyes to clamp shut. I could hear voices in my head, voices of people that I had never met, yet they all sounded so familiar and so real. It was like I had this entire collection of memories stashed away in my head, eager to be uncovered.

I stood in the room, staring at the bed. There lay the body that I feared to see. Steve. Lying limply on the bed, wires attached to him, machines whirring furiously away. I heard more voices, more distant, faint.

"…bad blood… savage…"

"…take that back…"

"I will not…make you…vam…"

"No…won't forgot…Vur Horston, I'll…kill you…one day!"

The voices were yelling, screaming at one another, but I could still make out one of them. It was Steve. But who was he talking to and why could I remember it? More conversation, more voices, more noise, it all just flooded into my head, beating at my mind like a drum, thumping at my temples.

"Darren, come on, we need to go, come on and get up!"

There was a sensation on my shoulder. I blinked my eyes, quickly at first, but slowing, realizing that I was still sat in the back of the ambulance.

"Urgh," I groaned, getting to me feet, only to sit back down again. Blood rushed to my head and my vision blurred. Fearing another vision, I got up blinding and moved in the direction I hoped the exit of the van was in. I took a few steps and felt the ground give way beneath me.

"Get up, you klutz," the voice hissed again. It was Steve's, I noted, as I brushed the gravel from my uniform. I could see again now, and it seemed as though I was in the right place. Steve was stood to my right, staring at me expectantly. I looked away from him, unable to hold his gaze. I could see him lying on the bed, dying, growing ever weaker, yet no-one knew what was wrong. But something was telling me that I knew.

"I'm coming," I whispered, unable to manage anything more. I followed Steve, who was following a nurse, into the hospital, where we sat by Tommy's bed. Only a few minutes in, he was looking considerably better. They'd shaved the left of his head, where the cut was, and applied some dressings, leaving him sat, propped up against some pillows.

His eyes fluttered open for a brief moment. He looked at me, almost curiously, and return to his sleep. I smiled and exhaled deeply, glad that he was coming round. Steve looked… well, less miserable than usual. He almost looked happy, but not quite. I doubted Steve would look terribly happy. He wasn't that kinda person.

Soon, we had to go. School time was over and the Nurse thought we should leave Tommy alone to 'convalesce' – I looked it up; it meant recover! – and we went home, Steve to his Mum and me to my family.

"Darren," Annie called. "Why did an ambulance come?"

I chuckled. She was always quite the curious one, was Annie. Then again, I wanted to tell her. It felt like having a secret that was just begging to be shared with someone. Annie was the best for telling things like that. She either forgot after you told her, or kept it a very well-kept secret, never telling anyone.

"Ew, so there was blood all over his face?"

I nodded grimly, indicating on my head the area of Tommy's that was covered in blood.

"Urgh, that's horrible," she squealed. "I hope he get's better."

"I'll tell him that," I said, before getting up and going into my room. I felt like reading something. I had a craving. I thought deeply about what I wanted – a zombie comic, a superhero comic or a Frankenstein comic. Nope, none of them made me feel any better. What else did I have? Of course – a vampire comic! That was just what I needed.

I rummaged through the pile and picked one out. I liked this one the best. I had loads of action and deaths in it. Plus, the vampire gets killed in the end by this young boy, who pretty much matches my physical description, so I like to think of him as me, saving the world from an evil monster.

When Mum calls me for dinner, I've pretty much forgotten about the rest of the day. I felt tonnes better and the smell of the fresh roast was making me starving. I washed my hands, careful not to knock the towel rack on the floor, and ran downstairs to get my seat at the table.

"So, how was your day, Darren?" Dad asked, tousling my hair.

"It was fine," I replied brightly, blushing slightly. He always did that Dad – tousle my hair – just to embarrass me. I always told him not to, but it just made him do it all the more. I looked over to Mum who was dishing the food out onto plates. It looked pretty fantastic. I tucked in, and the afternoon passed away in what felt like the blink of an eye.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

"You mean… Steve… assistant?"

"Heavens no… I do not want…assistant."

The man stood from his position and extended a long bony finger, pointing it in my direction.

"You want me!"

I jerked upright, wiping the sweat from my brow. The blanket was wrapped clammily around me. I peeled it away and stood, letting the air cool me a little. That dream, it felt so vivid – almost real. The words, I still couldn't quite hear them all. They were distant. Yet the conversation sounded so familiar, as if it was me speaking, as if I'd spoken those words to that man before. His voice, so deep and stern, sounded far too menacing to be real.

His face too – I recognized it. But what was his name and where had I seen him? It was … Larten Crepsley! The man with the spider at the Cirque! Why would he want me to be his assistant and not Steve? He was quite ugly, too, when I saw his face up close, with a great scar running down the side of his face. I didn't want to be his assistant, that was for sure.

I felt a little better and checked my watch. Midnight. I felt slightly aggrieved, but not really knowing why. As though I had done something really reckless – something unspeakably bad – and was trying to keep it hidden. I returned to lying on the bed and I returned my thoughts to Tommy in the hospital.

My fingers suddenly fell very numb and became quite sore. They felt inflamed, but there was no sign of any damage – it was like I'd just touched a hot piece of metal and I was waiting for the burn marks to appear.

"Did you think that becoming a vampire was easy? Get used to pain. Much of it lies ahead."

I jumped out of my bed and scanned my room, utterly terrified. Stood in the furthest corner from me was Larten Crepsley. He walked over to me and grabbed a few of my fingers. Despite my squirms, he kept a firm hold of me, sucking a little blood from the wound. My mind was in turmoil. How did he arrive? When did my fingers start bleeding? They were fine a moment ago…

Then he did the oddest thing of them all. He placed all ten of his fingertips, which were also bleeding, and pressed them tightly against one another. It hurt like hell. But I still found that I couldn't pull away, almost as if I had resigned myself to what he was doing.

Suddenly, I felt a searing pain begin to shoot up my right arm. The sting moved up and up, making me fell as though someone had poured acid – very strong acid at that! – through my veins. I carried on up my arm and across my chest. It felt like … I don't know what it felt like. But it was incredibly painful. Even the toughened looking Mr Crepsley looked as though he was suffering excruciating amounts of pain. Sweat was glistening off his head.

The pain soon travelled down my right arm and felt as though it was draining away. Words began to fall from my mouth, but I couldn't hear them. It was like mouthing something to someone. Mr Crepsley began to respond but I fell against my bed and blacked out, images of Larten Crepsley soon fading from my tired eyes – only to reappear a few moments later!

"…poison…worked rapidly…too late…"

Chills ran through me. I had become a vampire for nothing?

"…in time…good job…few hours… would be gone…"

"Just get on with it," I snapped, my tone icy – riled – sickened at the thought of becoming a vampire for nothing.

A few minutes passed. Everything sped up, as if I was watching a film. The already too fast Mr Crepsley was now a blur, leaning over Steve, doing something with that serum. My hatred for Madame Octa was sky high now. She'd not only killed my friend, but she'd basically killed me too, leaving me to join the ranks of the undead.

Without a moments notice, time slowed down and Steve was lying still, staring – glaring – at Mr Crepsley and me, looking both angry and confused. His mouth opened and closed like a fish's, no sounds coming out, and then he went limp again.

When I looked back over to him, he was staring at me again, looking hateful, vengeful and angry. It was as though he hated immensely. His eyes were filled with all of the venom that I'd just saved him from. Mr Crepsley too, with his ugly scar, was looking down on me with contempt – contempt for the foolish boy who stole his spider.

Without really thinking, I suddenly turned and bolted for the open door. I ran down the long, white corridor, wishing that the night's events hadn't happened. Then why was I running? Uh, I was running because I'd been caught in the hospital at this late hour. Why was I so scared? Because the police were chasing me. Why did I have ten little scars running along my fingertips? Why did I feel fitter than before? Why did I feel… like a vampire?!

---

_Running back home. Thoughts a blur in my mind. Struggling to make sense of it. Had I just become a vampire? Was it just a dream? As the rain whipped my forehead, I couldn't help feel certain that I had, in fact, become a vampire. Yet, it felt as though there was something good about it. Was I … proud to be a vampire?_

_I got back home and snuck into bed. Mum, Dad and Annie were none the wiser. The little scars on my fingertips were the only give away, but who'd be bothered about them? No-one. It was just a little secret that'd stay with me for all of my life._

_---_

"Darren, come on, I'm not waiting any longer. You'll just have to skip breakfast."

As if my own body was against me sleeping a little longer, my stomach began to growl menacingly, grumpy at the thought of no food coming to it after all of last night's shenanigans.

That's when my mind suddenly came awake. Had all of that stuff actually happened? I looked down at my fingertips. Sure enough, they all sported little scars – the sign of a vampire! My heart plummeted. That meant that Tommy should be OK now! Or was it Steve? Everything seemed a little distant again.

"Right, no breakfast for you then!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," I grumbled, getting out of bed and pulling on some clothes. My train of thought was gone! What was I thinking about? I tried to retrace my thoughts, with little/no success. I could remember Larten Crepsley's ugly face, but that was about it.

I pottered out of my room, resigning all thoughts of whatever it was that I was trying to remember. Annie and Dad were sat at the table, chewing on some overdone toast. I sat beside Annie and chuckled as I noticed that she'd smeared jam all around her mouth. I grabbed a tissue and helped her wipe it.

"Darren," she squealed as I began tickling her. "What was wrong with your fingers?"

"Huh?" I grunted, surprised that she'd picked up on it already. "Oh, I was drawing on them. Guess I didn't rub those bits off too well."

"Oh," she replied, seeming quite satisfied. I began tickling her again and her shrill, bright laughter filled the room.

"Oh stop it Darren," Mum scalded. "You'll make her sick. She's only just eaten."

"Sorry Mum."

"That's quite OK; just don't get her all excited."

Mum left, as did Annie, and I was left in the dining room with Dad. But soon after, he left and I was on my own, half of me watching the cartoons on TV, the other half focused on my fingertips. The ten little marks – no, scars – were incredibly clear and obvious, except for the one on the little finger of my left hand. That one already seemed quite faded. Good, as far as I knew. They were pretty odd to look at and proved that I was a ... vampire! That was what I was thinking about.

I needed to go to the hospital and check on Tommy. Steve wasn't in hospital. Now I was sure of it. Feeling better, I ran upstairs, grabbed my pen and quickly jotted down all of the thoughts in my diary, which I then hid again [I had to hide it really well from Annie. She was always in my room, looking for things!.

I had to remember all of these things, a tiny corner of my mind decided, fighting hard to keep hold of the thoughts. But they were so slippery; it was like trying to hold onto cornflour gloop. If I kept thinking about it, it was fine. It stayed with me. But the moment I stopped thinking about them, they were gone, slipping through my fingers.

I hid the diary in a small bag which I, in turn, hid in my wardrobe, under a pile of old clothes that I told Mum not to throw out. Satisfied that it was still Annie-proof, I left and made my way to the hospital. I was just praying that Tommy was OK and that there was no serious damage!

* * *

I'm sorry that that took such a while and will apologize in advance as the next one will be even longer in the making, as I've explained on my user page. Sorry readers...

But a great big thanks again to all of those who've read and reviewed! Nice one!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

"_It's a miracle…"_

_I felt smug, as though I knew something he didn't. I knew the real reason. I glanced down at my fingertips. I'd sacrificed my humanity to save him. Had it been worth it – of course it had. I'd saved my friend's life. But I still felt so hollow._

"Darren? Come on, Tommy's waiting."

I blinked and looked around. Oh yeah, Steve, Tommy, the hospital. I rubbed my eyes a little and got up from my bench to see Steve looking at me oddly, with a mix of curiosity and thoughtfulness. It was as though I'd said something that and he was trying to see if I was lying, curious to know of the actual answer.

"Yeah, coming," I replied groggily, as though just woken up. Then again, it felt that way. Since arriving at the hospital today, I'd just felt really sleepy. We'd visited everyday since Tommy was allowed visitors. Turns out he just had a concussion and was quickly recovering, the cut just from scratching his head. But his recovery was sudden. Faster than any of the doctors had ever seen before.

As usual, we spoke about how he was going to be out in a few days, discussed school and – as boys do – whispered and giggled about the hot nurses and the ugly ones. We laughed at Tommy who stumbled his words and accidentally made it out that he fancied one of the old wrinkly nurses.

As I left, about to walk home, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder – Steve.

"What's up?" I asked, yawning slightly.

"More like what's up with you," he replied, giving me that concerned, thoughtful look again. "You've been acting odd Shan, how come?"

"I'm just tired," I muttered, slightly worried about Steve's harsh tone.

"Yeah, well what's up with your fingers? They sleepy so they got all scarred?"

I forced my hands into my pockets and carried on walking.

"Come on Darren, there's no point running. I'll find out whether you want me to or not."

I began to run but before I knew it, Steve had grabbed the back of my jacket and hoisted me again the nearest fence.

"Come on Darren," he coaxed. "What's wrong?"

He was so close that I could feel his breath on my face. I pushed him back a little and sighed deeply.

"You won't believe-" I began.

"I will," he nodded solemnly, whilst still looking quite annoyed.

"Well, the day after that show, I had this really freaky day dream. For some reason, I pictured you in hospital-"

"Wired up to loads of machinery?" he finished for me, his solemn look wiping the momentary smile from my face.

"How'd you know?" I asked, my voice suddenly quiet and panicked.

"I had similar thing. I just felt as though I'd woken up in the hospital, just scratching to pull all of those wires off. Everyone looked dead surprised as if I'd been dead."

I stared at him for any signs of humour but knew – whether I liked it or not – it must be true.

"Did that stuff happen?" I asked, unsure which answer I wanted to hear.

"I…don't know," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "It seemed so real, but I haven't been in hospital this year – well, other than to visit Tommy, of course."

"So what exactly is it? Are we going mad?"

"Calm yourself, Shan," he grunted, burrow creased with thought. "Before you said that, I just thought it was just me. Maybe I was going mad after being reje… no, but I thought it was just me. I doubt that we'd both be going mad the same way. We must have done something that no one else has…"

"The Cirque!" we both exclaimed in unison.

"Did you do anything odd at the cirque?"

"Uh, well, I had some of that candy-floss web and bought some other stuff from the little people in blue…"

"No," he interrupted. "Loads of people bought that stuff. It had to be something else that just _we_ did."

I held my breath for a short moment and thought about something. Where had Steve gone after the show? He'd just run off and told me to go.

"Maybe it was when you ran off? What did you do then?"

"Well…I…no, that's not for now. Besides, you weren't there. It couldn't have been that."

"True," I agreed. "So what was it then?"

"I have no idea, so let's not think about that. Let's describe exactly what we've all seen."

"You go first," I chimed in, before he did the same to me.

"Uh, OK, well, I was at your house and there was this spider. It just attacked me and everything went dark.

"For the next few days, I felt really sleepy and then suddenly, it felt like I was waking up and I was in the hospital, calling for someone. I felt really stiff and cold, but nothing other than that.

"Then after that, there was nothing for a while but then I remembered that as I woke up, I saw you and Vur- I mean Larten Crepsley in the hospital. You ran away and he was saying something about not being able to escape something… But that's all I saw. How about you?"

Numb with shock at the similarity between his dreams and mine, I launched into my own set of dreams, glad to see his gentle nodding.

"So what do you think?" I asked him, after I'd finished.

"I think…I think that something went wrong at that show. I don't know how or why, but something didn't happen right. It's like the future wants us to be doing something that we're not doing."

My head began to ache. I couldn't quite understand something like that and, despite being his best friend, I even felt surprised that Steve could think that deep.

"I don't get it," I confessed quickly, hoping he'd explain it better.

"Tell me Darren, do you believe in destiny?" he asked cryptically.

"Uh, I dunno, probably," I replied.

"Just let me think about this," he said, with a slightly fierceness, before running off towards his house.

When Steve was upset, I knew better than to bother him. Just leave him to come around, which was the best way.

With dark thoughts of fate in my mind, I desperately tried to understand what Steve was telling me, bracing myself for a sudden turn in events. Little did I know it would be more sudden and serious than I could possibly expect.

_He picked me up, paused a moment, then hurled me out and down._

_All I could see was the drain. That was disgusting. Knowing I was dead and still being able to see everyone. The looks of concern as my neighbour spotted me, the lot of horror and grief on Mum's face and the terrified calm of Dad as he tried to reassure Mum that I wasn't quite as dead as he somehow knew I was._

_They took me inside. It felt like I was floating. I couldn't feel the hands beneath me, but I knew they were there. Mum was whimpering and Dad was frantically checking for signs of life. None. It took just a little time for the doctors to pronounce me dead._

_Crying. Screaming. Moaning. Wails of remorse. Tears. Lamenting voices. Annie, howling for me to return. I just had to block it out. This was as painful for me as it was for them._

"Darren? Wake up Darren. Stop playing around and get up. You've got school today."

_I couldn't move or they'd know I was alive. That'd just give the game away._

"Come on Darren; don't make me get your Dad in here. You that you won't get any pocket money if you don't go to school. You'll just be in a whole lot of trouble."

_I was so sorry for all of the grief that I'd caused and I would have done anything to prevent in from happening._

_Suddenly, that torn, jagged, blue face that I saw on the night of the Cirque shot into view and I jerked up _out of bed. There was a thud and Mum screamed. My head ached a little and my forehead felt a little wet.

"You stupid little boy," Dad roared, running into the room. "What kinda pathetic games are you playing at. Awh, Angie, are you alright? You listen Mr, you're in a lot of trouble when I fix Mum's nose."

I stared; slightly numb with shock at what had just happened. Those thoughts hadn't been my own. It had just been a nightmare, hadn't it? But that face… something deep down inside told me that it wasn't just a Circus helper. It was me!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 

Grounded. For two weeks! And I didn't even do anything. Mum and Dad were so angry. On the bright side, though, it gave me a chance to think all of the stuff over. You know, the visions and stuff. I wrote tonnes more in my diary, and what Steve said. I still couldn't really make sense of it. What did destiny have to do with anything? Wasn't that when you had to do something, or the world would end?

The problem was, I hadn't and couldn't talk to Steve. I wasn't even allowed to use the phone! I tried once when Mum and Dad were out but bottled out before I'd even dialled the number. Steve was right, I was a wimp!

But on that first night I had the worst sensation ever. It was like I had been trapped, and couldn't move. I'd felt claustrophobic all day but once I fell asleep, I thought… well, I thought that I'd been buried alive. I couldn't lift the lid of the coffin. But then, someone else lifted me out. I thought at first it would be Dad – I was just hoping it would be – but it wasn't. It was the red-headed vampire, Larten Crepsley.

Even though I barely knew him, I felt as though he was the only person that could save me. Like Mum and Dad were both gone and he was the only person left to care for me – and that would be something scary. But why was I always thinking of Larten Crepsley? He wasn't that scary, I didn't like him that much and I'd only seen him the once.

There was something really odd going on and the most annoying thing was that Steve probably had it all figured out – but I was trapped at home. I had to get out and talk to him!

That night, when I was sure that Mum and Dad had gone to sleep, I quietly got up out of bed and tiptoed across the landing. Walking very slowly, I took the odd pause to check for any sounds. None. Everyone else was still fast asleep. I carefully unhooked Mum's keys from the hanger and silently pulled open the front door. Making sure that I didn't make a sound, I closed the door shut behind me and began to walk towards Steve's.

Somehow, this scenario seemed familiar and memories of sneaking along this road shot into my mind. I had come this way before, but gone further down past Steve's. But surely I hadn't done this before? I'd have known why if I did!

Before I knew it, I had arrived outside Steve's house, talking care not to disturb any of his neighbours. Suddenly, I realized a slight downfall in my plan – how was I going to get Steve? I couldn't go in the front way, because the door was locked. I couldn't climb the wall because there was nothing to hold onto.

Looking around, I spotted some small stones in a display on a nearby garden. Without stopping to think of the consequences, I grabbed a handful and threw them, one by one, at his window. After I'd throw seven stones, and just about to throw the eighth, the curtain moved and a groggy looking Steve appeared. When he spotted me in the garden, his eyes bulged and he opened his window.

"What do you want?" he hissed. "It's late."

"I needed to talk to you. Why haven't you been at school?"

He scowled – I could tell even though it was dark. "Doesn't matter. Just go round the front. I'll let you in."

Before saying another word, he rushed off from the window, soon meeting me at the front door. Quite noisily, he pulled the door open.

"Come in, Mum isn't home anyway."

I gawped at him. "You mean she left you at home overnight on your own?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?" he snapped, looking away. "Just come upstairs."

Nodding, I followed him, worried he wasn't going to be very friendly.

_Whatever that piece of paper was, it had a funny, bitter taste. I'm glad he only left it there for a minute. Almost as soon as he'd done that he checked my fingers. I wished I could move. It was really odd being able to slightly feel it. I heard the sound of someone taking photos with a camera._

_Suddenly, I felt something sharp drive itself into me. I wanted to yelp with pain but after going for so long without giving myself away, it'd be awful if I did now. But whoever this person was, he – or she – was beginning to scare me. They had barely made a sound, except for the occasional grunt, and were clearly here without permission._

_Then, he was gone. He left me feeling worried and scared._

I blinked a couple of times and found myself stood at the bottom of Steve's stairs. He was at the top, stood perfectly still, head inclined. Quietly, I crept up the stairs, trying not to break the silence. He looked as though he was trying to recognize a faint sound. I waited for a moment before he too blinked a couple of times and looked around.

"Shan, did you just see something?"

"Yeah!" I exclaimed. "Did you?"

"Hmm," he replied. "I think I've figured it out."

"Oh?" I grunted. "So go on, tell me."

"Just come into my room," he said, running in and rummaging around in a drawer. Slowly, I followed him, unsure of exactly what he was going to do. As I stepped into his room, he grabbed me and pinned me against a wall, holding something wooden in his right hand.

"You tricked me. For all this time, you've been pretending, haven't you? I hate you."

"W-w-what?" I stuttered, trying to wriggle free. "What do you mean?"

His dark, slightly sunken eyes met mine and all I could see was hate.

"You know exactly what I mean, you-you-you vampire!"

Suddenly, I stopped struggling.

"That's right! _If you move even a fraction," he hissed, "I'll drive this right through you without blinking."_

"_Steve," I gasped. "Steve, what the-"_

"Just shut up!" he hissed, prodding me with the object, which I now made out to be a carefully carved – and sharpened! – wooden stake.

"You betrayed me," he snorted. "_To think I used to believe you were my friend."_

Something about that didn't seem right. His speech seemed disjointed and his vision clouded whenever he changed topic. I got a slightly headache too, like a small rush of blood to the head. Suddenly, I knew what was happening. It all made sense. The destiny thing was what we were seeing – the future!

"Steve, just listen to me. Please," I yelled, beginning to struggle again. "This is what was meant to happen. This is just a vision. I'm not a vampire. Look, I don't have any fangs."

I opened my mouth wide, hoping he was calming down. But he wasn't.

"Don't give me that crap," he fumed, strengthening his grip on me. "You're just lying. I'll drive this stake through your heart for taking my place. My rightful place."

Screaming, he kicked at me, making me want to double over. He was lashing out furiously but not really thinking about what he was doing. I howled with pain but brought my knee straight up into his abdomen. Momentarily, his grip loosened and I pulled away from him, darting to the doorway. But it was what he said that made me think most. '_My rightful place?' _What did that mean?

"Steve," I called, looking back quickly. "This is all wrong. This isn't supposed to happen. We're friends. Just talk to me."

"Never," he spat venomously. "I'll never be friends with the likes of you."

"Then I'm sorry Steve," I whispered, my voice hoarse, before shutting his door behind him and running from the house.

As I ran from his front door, if I listened really carefully, I could have sworn I heard sobbing.

_One last look at the town I grew up in. My life was this town. I took my time, treating every alley as a posh cul-de-sac, every crumbling bungalow as a sheik's palace. But most of all, I'd miss my home._

_In moments, that sickening feeling of guilt and sorrow had built up beneath my ribcage. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. I was a shell. Not a vampire, not even a human. What was I?_

_My mentor stood beside me, the hideous scar on his face glinting in the moonlight. He spoke, but the words were lost. As-_

"Darren! Wake up or you'll be late for school!"

I pulled myself out of my bed and looked around. I was at home! Mum and Dad … and Annie! They were all still here! I'd not left them.

"Coming Mum," I cried before launching myself downstairs. Mum wouldn't know what hit her. She'd never know, though. It was my secret to keep. But Steve was more serious. He'd actually tried to kill me. Me! His best friend.

Then again, maybe I should tell Mum. What if he tried again? I wandered into the living, worry creasing my forehead. Suddenly, there were a pair of hands grabbing my and lifting me up.

"And how's my Darren today?"

Dad. Unable to stop myself, a great big grin spread over my face.

"Fine," I spluttered as he tickled me. Normally I'd be embarrassed. But hey, after that near-death experience, I was just glad to see him. I just had to remember. No matter what, my family are most important. Right?

* * *

Heh heh, sorry for the delays folks. It just took me ages to plan through exactly what I wanted to happen and it still isn't quite right. If anyone has any ideas as to how far I should take this or would like to suggest anything, feel free to drop me a message. Thanks for reading!


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